A clock is ticking, but it's hidden far away
by hysteric
Summary: Pain. So much pain. It's all Mitchell can feel, all that exists for him now. His chest burns, as if a fire has erupted within it. He gasps for breath, his eyes flying open when he realizes that he actually needs it. AU after The Wolf-Shaped Bullet. MitchellxAnnie.
1. Chapter 1: Safe?

**Title:** A clock is ticking, but it's hidden far away  
**Fandom/Pairing:** Being Human, Mitchell/Annie, George/Nina, Owen/Annie  
**Rating:** R  
**Genre:** Angst, Drama, Romance  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.  
**Warnings:** Sex, violence, a few curses.  
**Short Summary:** _Pain. So much pain. It's all Mitchell can feel, all that exists for him now. His chest burns, as if a fire has erupted within it. He gasps for breath, his eyes flying open when he realizes that he actually_ needs _it._  
**Notes:** AU after The Wolf-Shaped Bullet. And when I say AU, I mean it's an alternate universe. _Really_.

Pain. _So much pain_. It's all Mitchell can feel, all that exists for him now. His chest burns, as if a fire has erupted within it. He gasps for breath, his eyes flying open when he realizes that he actually _needs_ it.

Bright lights. Wherever he is, there are bright lights and loud, distorted sounds. Is this hell? His body rocks to the side and there are hands on him, pushing him back into place. He thrashes around, trying to get away and a warm hand is on his face, stroking it reassuringly.

This is hell, isn't it?

"Mr. Mitchell, you've been stabbed," a voice tells him.

Yes, he's aware. He's been staked and now he's dead.

"Mr. Mitchell, can you hear me?" the same voice asks.

He blinks, his vision blurred despite his efforts, but he's able to make out shapes through the blinding light. He tries to reach out, but the movement causes new pain to slam into him and he's out of breath.

There's more yelling and then oxygen, sweet oxygen is his once more. He breathes it in greedily, although he's confused and afraid.

He doesn't think this is hell.

"Mr. Mitchell, we're bringing you into surgery now. Don't worry, everything will be fine," the voice assures him.

He knows that voice. He can't place it, but he knows it.

There isn't time to think as he continues to breathe in and out deeply, and soon all Mitchell knows is darkness.

.

"Mitchell, can you hear me? Mitchell, come on, mate, you've got to wake up," a voice urges him. Someone is holding his hand. Presumably the same person that is begging him to awaken.

His eyelids feel heavy, but slowly, he opens them and although his vision is still blurry, he knows who's beside him.

"George," he rasps, too shocked to even begin thinking about _how_ this is happening. Has George died as well? Devastation quickly works its way through him and Mitchell is breathing quickly, too quickly. The sound of machines beeping loudly fills the room and his vision finally clears.

He's in the hospital. He's in the hospital in his own room and there are wires and tubes and machines surrounding him.

And George is holding his hand.

And then Nina is running into the room and pushing George out of the way as she pokes and prods at Mitchell, giving him a serious look-over as she touches his face. "George, you need to keep him calm, not rile him up," she says sternly and frowns. "You'll be fine, Mitchell," she adds and gives him a tight smile. "Let's check on your stitches, hmm?"

"Stitches?" he repeats.

"You're lucky to be _alive_," George says, his voice cracking with emotion.

"George, sweetheart, it would be best if you left. I need to check him over and it may take a while," Nina explains. With a nod, George stands and walks out of the hospital room and Mitchell is left with Nina.

He doesn't understand any of this. What is happening? Is this real? Is this a punishment that he hasn't figured out yet? He winces as Nina touches his chest and she apologizes, and then moves away to the other side of the room.

It's then that he looks down and sees his bandaged covered chest. The bandages are stained red, obviously with blood, and he begins to panic. Did George miss? Is this why he's in the hospital again like years ago when Herrick staked him?

"Let's change those bandages," Nina says positively and begins to do so without another word. He watches, eyes trained on his chest as layer after layer of gauze is removed and soon he sees the wound and the stitches and the blood and the room begins to spin.

Darkness greets him once more and he goes willingly.

.

When he awakens, George is at his side again. His friend grins and pats his leg. "Hello, sleeping beauty," he laughs.

"George," Mitchell rasps. "George, what happened? I don't… understand."

George takes a very deep breath in and lets it out very slowly, as if he's stalling. Then, he places his hands on his lap and all playfulness disappears from his expression. "We were out at a pub four days ago. Nina called, she needed me, and I said I'd come and help her. You insisted… told me I should go be a knight in shining armor and I stupidly agreed because I'm an idiot." He pauses then and Mitchell is glad because everything George has just said is complete and utter insanity.

"I got a call a few hours later. They told me you'd been mugged and stabbed…" George pauses again and is seemingly overcome with emotion. Mitchell sees regret upon his friend's face and wants to comfort him, but he still doesn't understand. None of this happened. None of this has ever happened… why is George lying?"

"It was touch and go for a while, but you're in the clear now," George says, perking up once again. "You're going to be all right, Mitchell. Don't worry, Nina and I will take care of you," he promises. "You'll be back to yourself in no time."

Mitchell says nothing for a quite some time. He thinks he understands now. This is purgatory. This must be some kind of punishment.. a way to torture him. They're trying to make him think he's alive, that he's still with his loved ones and that they don't despise him. They're geniuses, really.

That loud beeping from before reappears and he looks over, eyeing the machine beside him. "How'd you get that to work?" he asks, following the lines of his obviously false heartbeat.

George is furrowing his brows together when Mitchell looks over at him. "Mitchell, we didn't do anything," he says slowly. "The monitor is functioning as it should. Would you rather it not work at all?"

Frustration begins to spread throughout him and Mitchell clenches his jaw. "Will you quit fucking around!" he exclaims. "This isn't real. You're not real. None of this is!"

"Mitchell…" George begins, reaching out for him. Mitchell pushes his hand away and attempts to sit up, but pain slashes through his chest and he cries out, falling back onto the bed.

"Fuck! Mitchell, you need to be more careful!" George yells and stands, running a hand through his hair. He looks frazzled and Mitchell is suddenly beginning to think that perhaps this isn't what he thought. Though his chest hurts, he places his hand upon it and feels something thumping. There's blood, he can smell it, but he presses his palm down harder and the thumping continues.

His heart is beating.

He marvels at the sensation of it.

"George," he whispers, forcing himself to look up at his concerned friend. "George, is this real? Are we real? How…"

George shakes his head and is at Mitchell's side once more. Just as he always has been. "Mitchell, you're alive. That's all that matters," he says.

"Annie," Mitchell rasps. "George, where is Annie? Where is she? I need to see her!"

George blinks. "Annie?"

Mitchell huffs, feeling frustrated again. "Yes, Annie," he answers. "Where is she?"

"Mitchell… I don't know an Annie," George tells him slowly.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Mitchell asks incredulously. "Don't fuck around with me right now," he warns.

"Mitchell, I'm not," George says. "Did you meet her at the pub?"

He's panicking. This is real. He knows it is. He can tell by how fast his heart is pounding against his aching chest. He's alive. _He is alive_ and Annie isn't here. Does she even exist? Was she a dream?

"George, I don't feel right," Mitchell murmurs and closes his eyes. "Get a… get a nurse."

.

They're in Bristol. There's no Honolulu Heights to go home to and he's glad because it's never felt like home. Bristol is home. That pink house is home. They don't live in that pink house, though. George drives them back to their modest flat and the walls are white and his bedroom is painted blue and his comforter is red. His bed is comfortable, but this place… it's strange to think it is home even though George continues to insist they've lived here for over a year.

Then there's the being human issue that he's still trying to deal with. The fact that he lives and breathes and actually _needs_ food to survive astounds him. He spends countless hours with his hand pressed to his chest, feeling his heart beating blood through his veins. This is real. He knows it. He doesn't wish it, he _knows_. He doesn't understand how, but he just knows.

He is human. He is flesh and blood and fragile to violence that doesn't require a stake to the chest. And now he's here, living in this flat with George and there's no Annie around to comfort him, to make him tea, and to love him. Mitchell refuses to give up. He knows she is real, and he knows she is in Bristol. He can feel it.

And he will not rest until he finds her.

.

It takes some time and excessive hovering, poking and prodding from George and at times Nina, but he finally begins to feel healthy and the pain in his chest lessens until it's nearly non-existent. He's still forced to visit with his doctor every two weeks, but he feels good, he actually feels _good_ and that's all that matters.

Now that he's able to, he takes walks every day, taking in the familiar sights. Most of the time the walks are devoted to looking out for Annie. He knows that he'll see her one day, he just knows it. He refuses to give up until she's in his sight and in his arms. Determination is something he hasn't lost in his human life.

That determination guides him to this moment while he's sitting down at an outdoor café, sipping hot tea as he watches the people passing by. There's a flash of familiar curly hair at the corner of his eye and he turns quickly, spilling his tea. He curses and wipes at his pants, but quickly gives up and throws money down on the table.

He walks swiftly, trying to spot her, but he can't. He's sure it was her. He is absolutely positive about that. And now he's left with tea covered pants as he shoves his hands into his pockets and walks slowly away, keeping his head down as he allows himself to be disappointed.

He should know better.

A body crashes into his and his hands immediately reach out, trying to steady them but it's useless as they fall down onto the hard pavement. He brushes the hair out of his eyes and looks up, intent on apologizing but the words disappear as he focuses on the vision before him.

_Annie_.

"Annie," he whispers.

She's the same. She's as beautiful as she was the last time he saw her and she's wearing green. It's a shock to see her in anything but grey and she's frowning down at him as she rubs her elbow.

He swallows. "I'm sorry," he blurts out. "I wasn't paying attention."

"Obviously," she snaps and then sighs. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you…"

He's grinning then. It's just like Annie to apologize even when she has a right to be frustrated and annoyed. She's too kind, too generous, and too good for him.

Blinking, he shakes his head, gets his wits about him and stands, offering her his hand, which she accepts. Her skin is warm. She's _alive_ and so is he and the sensation of her hand in his is overwhelming to the point where he feels a bit dizzy.

They stand there and Mitchell realizes that he's still holding her hand. After he's cleared his throat, he unwillingly lets his hand pull from hers and cards it through his hair. What is he supposed to say to her? It's obvious that she doesn't know him, and that _hurts_.

"I'm sorry," he says again.

She laughs then and shrugs, then smoothes out her shirt. His eyes follow the movement and he notices that she's wearing a skirt and he can see her legs. It's a welcome sight. Her boots are gone as well, replaced with a practical pair of simple black flats.

Mitchell is out of his element.

Annie is here, she's in different clothes and she's living and breathing and she doesn't know him at all.

His chest hurts in a different way.

"It's fine, really," she insists, smiling at him. Is he flush? He feels flush. They stand there, across from each other for what feels like hours. She breaks the awkward silence.

"So, thanks for not injuring me," she says lightly. "I've really got to go. So, err, nice meeting you…"

"Mitchell," he says. "John Mitchell."

She smiles a bit more and tilts her head to the side as she studies him. "Nice meeting you, John Mitchell," she finishes and turns, beginning to walk away.

"Wait!" he exclaims. She stops and looks back at him, raising an eyebrow. "Your name. It's only fair you give me your name."

"Annie," she tells him and is walking away once more. He doesn't stop her.

His heart is racing and his palms are sweaty and he feels so very human in this moment.

He loves it.

.

He memorizes the route she walks every day. He knows it's a bit creepy and that he may seem like a stalker, but this is the only way he can see her and eventually bump into her again. Despite not being a vampire, he still retains many of their ways and tracking is one of them. In a way Annie is his prey and he wants to catch her.

So maybe he's being _completely_ creepy. He can't help it. He can't think of another way and this plan of his is working out well. He is able to see Annie five days a week and each day she's more beautiful than the previous. Seeing her in different shades of color in thrilling. She's so vibrant, so full of life that he actually aches for her.

She doesn't know who he is and he falls more in love with her as each day passes.

Even as a human, he can't escape a tragic existence.

.

There are nights when Mitchell lies awake, trying to understand how this happened. He's unable to sleep, not when his mind is so full of things he can't begin to figure out.

Does he want to know?

A part of him does. A much bigger part doesn't. That part of him doesn't care about _how_ or _why_, just that _it is_.

This is the second chance he's wished for countless times. He's not about to take it for granted.

.

The next time she runs into him she's wearing deep purple and her hair is swept back from her face. He's caught by surprise because he actually hasn't followed her this time. It happens all on its own while he's browsing the aisles of the small market. She spots him first and smiles before waving at him.

He swallows. After he's swallowed and that action has helped nothing, he nods at her and hopes beyond hope that he doesn't look at nervous as he feels, because he's nearly nauseous from those nerves now.

Relief washes over him when it's Annie who walks over. "Hello," she greets him happily.

"Annie," he says.

She laughs. "John."

"I'd rather you call me Mitchell," he says. "No one calls me John."

"Oh, well then, hello, _Mitchell_," she says and laughs again. "How are you?"

"Fine, fine," he answers. Are they making small talk? He doesn't think he's ever made small talk with Annie. This is so… _strange_. "How are you?"

"Fine, thank you," she says. There's an awkward silence that lasts longer than he'd like, but then Annie makes the first move again.

"Would you like to get some lunch?"

He wonders if he's heard her right. When she gives him an expectant look, he realizes he has and then he's laughing nervously and carding his hand through his hair. "Um, yeah, I'd like that," he finally answers.

She's smiling even more. "Great! There's just… I'd like to talk to you."

He holds his breath.

And then loudly exhales it through his mouth.

"Right," she says, raising an eyebrow. "So… shall we?"

He nods and makes sure to hold the door open for her when they exit the market. He still has a _few_ chivalrous traits left.

Annie leads them to the same outdoor café where he first spotted her. Once they're sitting down comfortably, they're silent until she orders a tea. God, he misses her tea _so much_. He misses her more, but she's here, healthy and alive and he has to force himself to think positively. It's just hard when he's constantly thinking of a before she has no idea about.

"Mitchell," she says after she's ordered. "I… this is going to sound completely crazy…" she trails off.

His interest is piqued then and he stares right at her. "What?" he asks a little too severely.

His tone doesn't seem to bother her in the least and she even laughs. "It's just, well," she begins again. "I feel as if I know you," she finally tells him. And then she bursts into a fit of giggles.

He watches her, not really sure of how to react.

"I'm sorry," she gasps through her laughter. "I'm completely serious! But I heard myself say it and it's ridiculous!" When he still doesn't answer her, she sobers and looks him in the eye. "Do you think I'm insane?"

"No," he immediately answers.

She seems to visibly relax then.

He's pleased that she has such a reaction to him.

"Mitchell," she says again. "I believe that everything happens for a reason. I always have. And I think that maybe we were meant to run into each other." She pauses and pushes back a curl that has escaped from her braid. "Have I scared you off yet?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "It takes a lot more to scare me, Annie."

When she smiles this time, it's softer, and his chest tightens because he's seen her look like that so many times.

"Would you like to have lunch with me again tomorrow?" she asks hopefully.

He wants to have lunch with her for the rest of his life.

"I'd like that," he says, surprised that he's able to contain his happiness from bursting out of him.

.

"You seem _chipper_," George says, pushing his glasses up his nose as he studies Mitchell suspiciously. "Have you been taking more pain medication again? You know that could cause serious problems, Mitchell! As if you need more…"

Mitchell laughs, which only seems to raise his friend's suspicions. Sighing, he decides to stop this before George becomes completely irate. "George, mate, I swear my _chipper_ state has nothing to do with prescription drugs," he says.

George visibly deflates then and rubs his forehead. "Oh thank God," he says. "I was about to call Nina and have her come over and yell at you. You know how terrifying she can be."

"Yes, I do," Mitchell agrees.

They sit beside each other in silence for a moment, and then George punches Mitchell's knee.

"Ow!" he exclaims, rubbing the spot George has harmed. "I was stabbed, you know!"

"Not there," George snaps. "Now what the hell is going on?"

Still rubbing the spot, Mitchell scowls, but finally relents. "I found her," he says.

George blinks. "Am I supposed to know what that means?"

"I found Annie," Mitchell clarifies.

"Again, what?"

Huffing in frustration, Mitchell punches George's knee.

"Ow!"

"It's deserved," Mitchell says. "Anyway. Annie. The… girl I was asking about? I found her."

George is now rubbing his own knee and scowling at Mitchell, but he stops to nod. "Ah, yes, Annie. I honestly thought you were making her up."

"Well I wasn't," Mitchell mutters.

George's eyes narrow. "I'll believe it when I see this girl with my own eyes."

"Four eyes," Mitchell says under his breath.

George yelps in offense and punches Mitchell's knee again.

.

George and Nina drag Mitchell out to a party, telling him that he's in desperate need to get out and _mingle_. Mitchell disagrees, but finds it difficult to win the battle when the sides are uneven. So he begrudgingly joins the couple as they head off to a party one of Nina's friends is throwing.

"You could try and smile," George mutters as they head toward the food.

"I could, but I won't," Mitchell says.

As George shakes his head in disapproval, Mitchell shoves as much food as he can onto his minuscule paper plate and looks for a place to sit so he can eat in peace. George waves him over to an empty sofa and soon they're both sitting and happily eating.

Mouth full of food, Mitchell looks around and spots her.

Annie is across the room, smiling and laughing loudly as something the female host of the party is saying. He nearly drops his plate in shock. This has to be more than a coincidence. Annie is _here_, and he didn't plan it at all!

So of course he looks like an absolute buffoon when she spots him and walks over to say hello. George elbows him and Mitchell nearly spits out the food he's forgotten to swallow, which he immediately does before he abruptly stands.

"Annie," he says breathlessly. "Annie, hello!"

"Mitchell," she says pleasantly. "I had no idea you knew James and Emily!"

"He doesn't," George says, making his presence known then. Holding out his hand, Annie takes it. "I'm George, and you must be Annie."

She nods.

"Mitchell has been talking about you for _ages_."

"Has he?" she asks and looks at Mitchell quizzically.

Mitchell would punch George right now if it wasn't socially unacceptable and Annie wasn't standing right here.

"Are you here alone?" Mitchell asks, needing to change the subject and also curious about the answer.

"Oh, no… I'm with—"

"Babe, there you are!" a voice that Mitchell knows too well interrupts.

The blood drains from his face as a nightmare unfolds before him. And as that nightmare wraps its arm around Annie's shoulders, Mitchell has to suppress the urge to lunge forward and rip that arm off.

"Owen," Annie laughs and then kisses his cheek. "I was just chatting up some friends."

Owen's dark eyes study George before they land on Mitchell with obvious distaste. "They're friends of yours?" he asks Annie slowly.

"Yes," she answers, looking a bit worried which bothers Mitchell immensely.

"Funny, you never mentioned them," he continues just as slowly.

"We just met," George offers. "Well, _I_ just met Annie," he clarifies. "Mitchell and Annie met before today."

"Weeks ago, actually," Annie confirms.

"Isn't that nice," Owen says, his voice sounding the complete opposite.

"Nice to meet you, Owen," Mitchell forces himself to say as pleasantly as he can while he fights his homicidal urges which are surprisingly strong even as a human.

"It was nice to see you, Mitchell. And it was nice meeting you, George," Annie says softly and allows Owen to lead her away.

"What an ass," George murmurs once the couple is out of earshot.

"Yeah," Mitchell agrees faintly.

He didn't see this coming. And he doesn't know what to think or what to do.

So he decides on the easier solution; he gets pissed.

.

"I'm sorry about Owen," Annie sighs, wringing her hands together as she avoids eye contact. "He's normally very nice. He was having a bad day…"

As she trails off, Mitchell is filled with dread. The fact that Annie is with Owen turns his stomach, but the fact that she is with him and making excuses for his behavior is heartbreaking. Owen must be the same here. All charm until he's alone and then what's under the surface comes to light. He's a monster, a killer, and Mitchell is almost positive that Owen is exactly the same in this world as well.

And that makes him want to grab Annie and make a run for it before Owen can harm her.

If he hasn't already.

That thought makes him feel a million times worse and he clenches his jaw in fury.

"Mitchell," she says softly. "Please don't be upset."

"I'm not," he tells her. After he's said it, she finally looks up and he wonders if she can see how much he feels for her in his eyes alone. If she does, she says nothing. He doubts it, though.

"I've really enjoyed getting to know you this past month and I'd hate it if you… didn't want to be my friend anymore."

How many times can his heart break? He's sure it's been broken about five times in the half hour they've been sitting in this café.

"Annie," he sighs, and has to stop himself from calling her _darling_. "I don't want to stop being friends with you. And your boyfriend being a bit rude isn't going to make that happen."

"He's actually my fiancé," she whispers.

"Oh, well… that doesn't change anything either," he says, although it's the complete opposite in his head right now. This changes _everything_. His determination to get Owen out of the picture has grown and he will not rest until he is triumphant.

.

There are a handful of changes he notices in Annie here that make it obvious that she's not the same Annie he fell in love with. Of course the biggest change is that she's _alive_, and there are times when Mitchell finds it difficult to be around her because he misses _his_ Annie. Thinking about it too much makes everything more complicated so he tries not to.

It does get easier as the days go by, though. The more time he spends with Annie, the more infatuated he becomes with her. She's bursting with life, so much that his heart beats as fast as a hummingbird whenever he's around her. How can she not see the effects she has on him? Or does she see and chooses to ignore them? He doesn't know what she's thinking, which is very difficult when he was so in tune with his Annie.

It's a hurdle he'll have to jump over because he won't let anything get in the way of this.

They're together now, strolling down a busy street, arm in arm and Mitchell is far too giddy for his own good. He hasn't laughed this much in _so_ long and the fact that he's with Annie and she's causing this makes him appreciate it so much more.

The sparkle of her engagement ring is an immediate way to end his good mood, but he tries to get past the dark feelings that begin to brew within him. Annie must sense his change in mood as she stops walking and looks at him questioningly.

"Is everything all right?" she asks, clearly concerned.

He takes a deep breath. It doesn't help. "Do you know that we met (_again_) nearly four months ago?"

She smiles. "Of course I do. How could I forget crashing into you and scratching up my poor elbow?"

He smiles a little. "Sorry," he says, though it's very obvious he's not as sorry as she should be. And it must be obvious to Annie as well because she elbows him in the side and huffs in what he's sure is feigned offense. She steps away from him soon after and he suddenly thinks he's misread her emotions and is about to apologize and actually mean it, but then Annie's arms are circling his neck and she's embracing him so strongly that the breath is nearly knocked out of him.

"I'm really glad I met you," she murmurs against his neck. The sensation of her warm breath against his skin makes him shiver.

Hesitantly, because he's not sure if he can trust himself when they're this close, Mitchell wraps his arms around her waist and returns the embrace. "The feeling's mutual," he murmurs back. That feeling and so many more.

She pulls back then and laughs. "I'm being silly, but it's just that… I've never had a friend like you before, Mitchell. You mean a lot to me and it's a bit scary considering we haven't known each other that long."

"Feels like years," he says lightly.

"It does," she agrees.

He's surprised she hasn't asked him to let her go yet. They stare at each other for a moment and he wants to kiss her so badly but he knows he can't. That reality is enough to force him to finally allow his arms to fall from her waist as he takes a step back, creating needed space between them.

She holds her hand out a second later though and he laughs, but takes it.

They must look like a couple as they begin to walk down the street again. Mitchell recalls countless walks he's taken with her before, and how they were a bright light in the darkness his life was back then. Annie's his shining light here as well, and he never wants to let her hand go again.

There's a point when he has to, though, and does so unwillingly. They stand before the nursery school that Annie is employed with and she smiles prettily at him while he leans against the dark, rusty bricks of the building.

"Do you really enjoy working here?" he asks, honestly interested in knowing that and everything else about her.

"Yes, very much so," she answers. "I love children so much and since Owen doesn't really want any…" she trails off, the brightness leaving her expression.

"He doesn't want children with you?" he asks, very surprised. How could anyone not want to have children with Annie? She's so perfect and loving and _made_ for motherhood. The fact that Owen wants to deny her that infuriates him. And the fact that he suddenly realizes how much _he_ wants that with her terrifies him.

"Not just me, with anyone. Owen isn't the fatherly type. It isn't his fault, he had an awful childhood and his father wasn't very kind," she says defensively.

"But _you_ want children, Annie. Why are you settling?" he finally asks, feeling a weight lifted from his shoulders.

She looks at him with anger for the first time since they've become friends. "I love Owen, Mitchell," she insists. "I love him and I want to be with him for the rest of my life. If you can't support that—"

"Support you settling for someone who doesn't deserve you?" he interrupts loudly. "I'd be insane to!"

She backs away, crossing her arms. "Where is this coming from? How long have you felt this way?"

"Annie, how can you do this? You must know he's no good."

She frowns and shakes her head. "You don't know him! You have no idea what Owen is like!" she yells. "He loves me, Mitchell. He wants to be with me forever, he wants me as his wife. Who are you to judge him?"

"I'm your friend!"

"Then trust me," she snaps. "If you're my friend, and you care, you'll trust that I can make my own decisions!"

It's then, when he _really_ looks at her, that he notices she's crying. He moves forward, reaching out, but she backs away and shakes her head.

"Just go," she whispers.

"Annie—"

"Just go, Mitchell!" she yells and turns, rushing through the entrance, running away from him.

His chest is burning. His head is aching. And he's desperately in need of a cigarette.


	2. Chapter 2: And Sound

**Title:** A clock is ticking, but it's hidden far away  
**Fandom/Pairing:** Being Human, Mitchell/Annie, George/Nina, Owen/Annie  
**Rating:** R  
**Genre:** Angst, Drama, Romance  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.  
**Warnings:** Sex, violence, a few curses.  
**Short Summary:** _Pain. So much pain. It's all Mitchell can feel, all that exists for him now. His chest burns, as if a fire has erupted within it. He gasps for breath, his eyes flying open when he realizes that he actually_ needs _it._  
**Notes:** AU after The Wolf-Shaped Bullet. And when I say AU, I mean it's an alternate universe. _Really_.

"Would you stop moping around like a child?" George whines and pushes at Mitchell's side. Mitchell isn't bothered, simply rolls onto his stomach and buries his face into a pillow with a groan.

"Mitchell, this is ridiculous," George says. "You need to shower and go to work!"

"Called in sick," he mumbles into the pillow. "Off all week with the flu."

He feels the bed dip as George sits down but does not move. What's the point? He's royally messed things up with Annie and hasn't seen her in exactly one month. He's beaten himself up about it repeatedly and thought of different ways he could have gone about it, but he always ends up back to what actually occurred. There's no use.

"Annie doesn't want to be my friend anymore," he says and punches the mattress.

"Mitchell… maybe some time apart is a good thing," George says slowly. "You were becoming a bit… obsessed."

"I was not!"

He can actually _hear_ George roll his eyes.

"Why don't you get out of your little funk and go see her then?" George suggests. "I seriously doubt anything will come from you continuing on like this. Well, there could be some serious insect problems if you don't clean up all these dirty dishes and clothes…"

With another very loud groan, Mitchell rolls onto his back and scowls at his friend who is trying to be helpful but is only making things worse. "She doesn't want to see me. I fucked up."

"Do you… err, like her?"

"What do you think?" Mitchell snaps.

"I think, if you care for Annie like I _know_ you do, you'll get out of this bed, shower, shave, brush that mess you call hair and put on a brave enough face to go and see her."

It's Mitchell's turn to roll his eyes. "Since when did you know anything about these kinds of things?"

George puffs his chest out in pride and smirks. "Nina's given me a subscription to Cosmopolitan for my birthday!"

.

The pink house is exactly as he remembers it. Flurries of emotions sweep through him as memories of their life together in that house fill his mind. That was their home, their haven. It was their sanctuary that kept them safe from the monsters who hunted them so fiercely. And then it was all ripped away and Honolulu Heights could never take its place.

So to see their home again and to know that Annie is with Owen tears Mitchell apart all over again. It's nearly as painful as Annie being torn from their world and from him because of Kemp. The only difference now is that she's right behind that door and she doesn't know who he is. Constantly reminding himself of that small problem always makes everything seem worse.

But this is his second chance.

And knowing that is was gives him the strength to knock on that door.

The door slowly opens after the third knock and familiar curls peak out. He's not prepared for what comes after that.

Annie is there.

And she's broken.

"Mitchell," she whispers, eyes widening as she looks him over. "What are you… doing here?"

"What's happened to you?" he asks and steps forward, reaching out to touch her face. She flinches and turns, the sunlight now revealing the bruise that covers her cheek. Anger boils inside of him and he's baring his teeth as the fury fills him up to the brim.

"It's nothing," she lies. "I fell."

"On a fist?" he asks angrily and steps forward again, intent on going into the house. She presses her hand to his chest, halting his plans.

"No, Mitchell. Please don't," she begs. "Please. I can't do this. I can't deal with anything else. Please…"

He cups her opposite cheek. "Annie," he says, his voice breaking. "Annie, please, let me in."

She trembles; he feels it beneath his hand. She trembles and breaks apart, crying softly as she steps back and finally allows him to move through the door. He looks her over and sees more of her injury now. Her lip is cut, her eye swollen, her cheek bruised. He wants to cry, to break something, to beat Owen to a bloody pulp.

Knowing that even in this place he couldn't stop this is killing him.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she says.

"When are you going to stop defending him?" Mitchell asks her, unable to keep the anger from his tone. "When he kills you? Is that what you want?"

"No," she whispers. "It's my fault. He didn't want…"

"Nothing you do could ever justify Owen putting his hands on you," he tells her, his eyes wide and serious. "Annie, you need to believe that. It's the truth."

"But, it is my fault," she says, averting his eyes now. "I betrayed him."

His forehead is creased with the confusion he feels. "What?"

"I… care for someone else," she says, her body shaking more now. "I care very deeply for someone else and I'm awful. I'm a cheat. A whore…"

"No!" he yells. She jumps and he's upset that he's frightened her. He forces himself to calm down then, not wanting to cause her anymore pain. "You aren't any of those things," he says. "You're kind, and beautiful, and perfect."

"I'm not," she cries. "I'm ugly and a terrible person! I'm unfaithful!"

He steps forward until he's right before her and gently holds her shoulders. When she looks up at him, he wants to cry. This isn't what she deserves. He thought that at the least she would be safe from this fate, but he was wrong. And to witness it first hand kills him.

"I don't believe for a second you betrayed Owen," he tells her. "You'd never do that. You're not like that."

"But I am," she insists.

"Who was it?" he asks, not sure if he really wants to know. The thought of Annie with other men cuts him deeply.

"You," she whispers. She whispers it so softly that he wonders if it's his own thought. She whispers it and his eyes lock with hers, searching them for answers to what he doesn't understand. They've never even kissed, what can she possibly mean?

"I don't—"

"You turned my world upside down," she says and moves away from him. "You showed up, crashed into me and everything changed. There was a connection… it was instant. And I tried to fight it for so long, but it was impossible. So I grew to care for you, to think about the possibility. We spent so much time together…"

"Annie," he says brokenly. "Annie…"

"Mitchell, please," she cries. "Please, just go. This is no good. I'm no good. Owen found out about all the time we spent together. He was so angry! He said I was a cheat and a tease and that I deserved to be treated as such! And he wants to kill you. Mitchell, please, you need to get as far away from me as you can. I couldn't bear it!"

As her knees buckle, his instincts are quick and he lurches forward, grabbing her before she hits the floor. She buries her face into his chest and sobs as he holds her as tightly as he can, wanting to make everything disappear. He wants to take this pain from her, but he also wants to bask in the truths she has revealed. She cares for him, wants to be with him, and he's so happy, but so devastated at the same time. It's his fault she was harmed, and he doesn't know if he'll ever get over that guilt.

"You need to go away," she murmurs. "I don't want him to hurt you. Please, please."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promises her, promises himself. Never again. He will never leave her again. He can't. Not now, not when he has to keep her safe. And he'll do it. He'll keep her from that monster and he'll keep her _alive_.

It's not going to happen again. He's not going to lose her.

.

"How long has Nina been in there?" Mitchell asks for what he's sure is the fourth or fifth time. George sighs and sits beside him, keeping silent as they wait for Nina to emerge from Mitchell's bedroom. Mitchell had insisted Annie come with him and had called his friends on the way back, explaining in as little detail as he could what had occurred and what they could expect.

It's been a while since then and Nina has been with Annie. He's been pacing, agitated and anxious about what comes next. Should he track Owen down and beat him to a pulp? Should they call the authorities? Should he barge into the room and declare his love for Annie, promising that he'll never leave her side?

The sound of the door creaking open halts his thoughts and he looks up, his eyes meeting Nina's, which seem very tired. He moves forward, intent on going into his bedroom, but Nina shakes her head and closes the door softly before she motions for him to join George back on the couch.

"How is she?" George asks.

Nina sighs and rubs her cheeks. "She's as fine as she can be. I don't know how else to put it. She's shaken and hurt and very scared."

"I should go to her," Mitchell says and Nina shakes her head at him again.

"No, you should let her be. She's sleeping now," Nina says, keeping her voice hushed. "Mitchell, she doesn't want to get the police involved."

"That's ridiculous!" George exclaims, apparently having gained the ability to read Mitchell's mind.

She shushes him and glares. "It's up to Annie," she says. "And right now she's decided not to. Things could always change in the morning."

"Thank you," Mitchell murmurs, hoping that Nina can hear and see the sincerity he feels. "If I didn't have you two, I don't know what I would have done. It's Annie, you know? I'd do anything…"

"The best thing you can do for her right now is give her comfort and support," Nina tells him. "That's all any of us can do now."

Afterward, when George and Nina have retired to bed, Mitchell paces in front of his bedroom door, his hands wringing together as he glances at the door every few seconds. When he finally makes up his mind, he turns the doorknob and quietly walks inside, making sure to close the door behind him carefully. When he looks over, his heart springs up into his throat. Annie's sleeping, burrowed up in his blankets and looking smaller and more fragile than she ever has. He sits down beside her and strokes her hair, finding himself unable to understand how anyone could ever lay a hand on her and hurt her like this. She's so good, so kind and so lovely, and knowing the horrors she's had to experience because of Owen… it's tearing Mitchell apart. Half of him wants to track the bastard down and give him a worse treatment, but the other half of him refuses to leave Annie's side. He can't. He needs to be right here with her, giving her whatever she needs. He meant what he told George and Nina, he'll do anything for her.

He doesn't sleep at all that night. He keeps constant vigil over Annie and when it's early morning, he leaves the room and finds Nina in the kitchen preparing breakfast. They say nothing to each other and she wordlessly hands him a tray full of food, coffee and tea. He nods his thanks and enters his bedroom once more, finding Annie awake and looking right at him.

"I should go," is the first thing she says to him.

"No," he says. "You don't need to go. Besides, Nina's made you breakfast."

"I couldn't eat," she says. Mitchell ignores her and places the tray before her.

"You need to," he replies. "Annie, please, love. You need to."

She avoids his gaze, looking down at the food and picking up an orange slice. As he drinks the coffee, she drinks the tea and there's a comfortable quiet between them. When the tray is nearly empty, Mitchell picks it up and places it on his desk. When he turns, Annie is crying again and he rushes forward, wrapping his arms around her as he pulls her into him.

"I let him hurt me so many times," she cries against his chest. "Why? Why did I? And now I'm broken and I'm ruined."

"You're not," he says fiercely and forces her to look up at him. As he strokes her cheek, he shakes his head. "I know he hurt you, and I despise him for doing so, but you aren't ruined. Don't let him take anything else from you."

She sobs loudly for a moment and then stops, placing her own hand upon his cheek. "What would I do if you weren't here?"

"You don't have to think about that," he answers. "I'm here, and I'm not about to leave you."

"Mitchell… will you… hold me?" she asks innocently. His heart swells as he finds himself falling so much deeper. Because he knows his voice will crack if he speaks, he nods and waits for her to lie down. He's lying down beside her and carefully wrapping his arm around her, kissing the top of her head as she breathes evenly against him. He doesn't know how long they lie there just like that. Annie falls asleep soon after and Mitchell finds himself joining her.

When he wakes, she's still in his arms and he's more determined than ever to keep her there and away from anyone that could hurt her again. She deserves happiness and love, and Mitchell is more than willing to give that to her if she wants it.

.

It's nearly a week later when Annie tells him she has to go back.

"Why?" he asks her severely.

She laughs, which lightens him up a bit, but he's still on guard and ready to talk her out of this obviously bad idea. "Mitchell, I can't just stay here and live with you forever," she says and holds her hand up to stop him from interrupting. "I need to go back. I can't just wear these clothes forever."

"We've washed them plenty, and you can wear Nina's," he says.

"Nina's clothes don't fit me," she reminds him.

"You can wear mine or George's. He wouldn't mind sharing," he says unconvincingly.

"Mitchell, I need to go back," she repeats and it's final. He won't allow her to go alone. No way. She holds his hand as they walk back to the pink house and there's a moment when she hesitates at the door, but then she's unlocking it and pushing it open. Mitchell holds his breath as he follows her inside and lingers in the entryway.

"I'll be right back," she says and soon disappears up the stairs. Uneasiness settles inside of him and he follows her up. As he walks through the familiar hall, he heads for his old bedroom and sees that it's a complete mess. Walking around, he remembers far too many things. He's so caught up in them that he actually jumps as a loud thud echoes around the house. And then he's running out the door.

Annie is at the top of the stairs. She's crying and Owen is shaking her by the shoulders, yelling terrible lies at her. She's begging him to stop and there's no sign of him doing that.

Mitchell sees red and charges forward, slamming his body into Owen's and knocking him to the ground. He can hear Annie screaming his name, begging him to stop, that Owen isn't worth this kind of violence. But he is and she doesn't understand that. As he pummels his fist into Owen's face, he wishes for strength and abilities he no longer has. He's never wished for them since he woke up in this world, and now he is, wanting them back so that he can end this piece of filth's life. He wants fangs and strength and power and no remorse for killing.

"Mitchell, please," Annie sobs and touches his shoulder. That's what ends it. Hearing her like that and feeling her touch is what stops everything. He pulls his hand back. It's covered in Owen's blood and he stands, backing away. Annie's arms are around him and she's sobbing as she says his name again and again. He can't take his eyes off of Owen.

"Get out," he growls. "Get the fuck out of here and never show your fucking face again!"

Owen is scrambling up and rushing down the stairs. The front door slams shut and they're left in the house, Mitchell murmuring things he isn't even aware of into her hair.

They're in the bathroom moments later, Mitchell sitting on the toilet seat as Annie washes the blood away from his hands. She's gentle and kind and all the things he doesn't think he deserves.

"I was so afraid," she whispers and strokes his palm. "I thought… oh Mitchell! I don't want to ever see you like that again!"

"I'm sorry," he mutters.

Her hands are on his face then and she's looking at him with such intensity that he wants to look away but he doesn't. And then her mouth is pressing to his and she's kissing him as he sits there, too stunned to even move.

"Don't ever do that again," she says between the end of that kiss and the beginning of a new one. He's finally able to move then and kisses her back as he snakes his arms around her waist and pulls her into him. He kisses her like he's wanted to since he saw her, and how he wants to kiss her for the rest of his life. When the kiss ends, he presses his face to her stomach and she holds him.

"Thank you for saving me," she whispers.

He holds her tighter, terrified that if he lets go he'll lose her.

.

As the weeks pass, Annie's bruises fade and pieces of who she was before seem to resurface. She smiles now, happily, and there's sparkle in her eyes that fill her with life once more. Owen has disappeared and Annie moves back in to the pink house. Mitchell spends all his free time with her, whether it's at the pink house, his apartment, or out somewhere else. They're always together and everything seems to be getting better. There's true happiness surrounding them and Mitchell thrives off of it. All the pieces are being placed in the right places of the puzzle that is his life.

Mitchell doesn't think about before as much now. He's too focused on now and this life that he's been given. Being human, having these emotions and breathing, even the feel of his heart beating, the sound of it in his head… he can't take any of it for granted. He stops wondering how this has come to be and starts living.

They're sitting on the couch, Pride and Prejudice playing on the television as Annie snuggles herself into his arms. She smiles and laughs and enjoys herself (and Colin Firth) and Mitchell finds it impossible to even look at the screen when he has this beautiful, amazing woman this close. As Mr. Darcy professes his love to Elizabeth Bennett, Annie shifts in his arms and looks up at him. He's already looking at her so he feels a bit sheepish and grins.

"Mitchell." The way she says his name is unlike anyone else. There's so much behind it, and he wants to hear her say it all the time. When she repeats his name, he chuckles and refocuses.

"Something wrong?" he asks softly.

She shakes her head. "No, it's just…" She stops and looks down, laughing to herself. He doesn't know if it's from actual amusement or from nerves. What he does know is that the air around them shifts into something more tense. He places two fingers beneath her chin and tips her head up so that she's looking at him again.

"Tell me," he murmurs, stroking her cheek.

"I love you," she whispers, and although it's very quiet, there's so much emotion in her voice that he feels it well up within him. He swallows, wondering if it's possible to actually choke on your heart. The second her hand is on his face, he exhales shakily and blinks too many times.

"Annie," he says.

"You don't have to say it back. I just needed you to know that I love you, and that I have for a while now." She smiles. "I tried to fight it, but it was a battle I was never going to win, and I don't think I ever really wanted to. So… I love you."

Everything has been leading them to this very moment. All the ups and downs. All the pain. All the tears and the laughs. Every single second they've had together in this strange new world has been leading to right now and Mitchell can't find his voice.

So he holds her face in his hands and kisses her, hoping that she can feel what he does for her. There is so much, she is so deep inside of him, and perhaps she always has been. He so rarely believed in fate but now, with everything that has happened, he thinks it could be possible. Maybe they _are_ meant to be.

"I love you so much," he finally tells her. His voice breaks just like he knew it would. "I've loved you for so long, Annie."

She's smiling so broadly at him, her eyes bright with all happiness and all the love she has inside of her, everything she has to give to him and to everyone else she cares for. This is overwhelming him and he claims her mouth once more, needing to simply feel the pressure of her lips against his, moving so perfectly, as if they've done this since the beginning of time.

.

Mitchell moves in two weeks later. George and Nina think they're moving too fast, but it isn't as if they're sharing a bedroom. They're nowhere near reaching that place and honestly, Mitchell doesn't want Annie to be alone in that big house. It's not made for one person. So he moves in despite George telling him he's finally lost his mind and Nina disapproving of the choice and making her opinion known.

His bedroom is full of boxes he doubts he'll unpack until he's finally forced to. He doesn't spend time in there anyway unless he's sleeping, so he doesn't see a point to it. George and Nina look on in distaste when they see his bedroom. The potted plan they've given Mitchell as a gift is placed on a desk, most likely never to be given attention again. The little housewarming party consists solely of the four of them and Annie finally makes tea. When he takes his first sip he swears he's in heaven. He's missed her tea so much.

"This is the most amazing tea I've ever had," Nina says with a big smile. It's nice to see that. He much prefers it to her pursed lips and disapproving glare.

"I have to agree," George says. "Brilliant, Annie."

Annie's cheeks are bright red and she waves their compliments away, although it's obvious that she's pleased about them.

When George and Nina finally call it a night, Annie promises to care for the plant and closes the door. She leans against it and grins at him.

"That was nice," she says.

He nods and begins to smirk as he moves toward her. "I think I've earned a kiss," he says playfully as he presses himself against her, his hands pushing onto the door. "I think I was a good host."

She smirks back at him and wraps her arms around his neck, drawing him into her. "I think you're right," she agrees, breathing out against his face. His eyelashes flutter until he's closing his eyes and inhaling her unique scent. Her sweet, floral perfume is there, but it goes deeper than that. Beneath that, it's his Annie, and as he kisses her, she sighs into his mouth, making him aware of just how much power she holds over him by simply doing things like that. How easily he allows himself to be overpowered only shocks him for a moment and then he's Annie's.

.

It becomes harder to remain chaste. The kissing leads to so much more and Annie becomes braver every single time until Mitchell is forcing himself away from her and taking more cold showers than he ever has before. He doesn't want to screw this up. He doesn't want to scare her away, but he doesn't know how much longer he can keep himself from giving in and taking her like he so badly desires.

It's night now and they linger in the hall. Annie's mouth is pressing kiss after kiss to his neck and he's holding her so tightly that he thinks she may shatter beneath his hands. Her hips press into his as he's pushed against a wall and her teeth graze his skin. Sucking in a sharp breath, his hands bury into her hair and he can feel her smiling against his neck.

"Come to bed with me," she whispers, lifting her head up. It's becoming more difficult to think with his brain, especially as Annie moves her small, delicate hands down his chest. "Mitchell, I want you so much."

That's it. He's finished. The way her voice sounds when she says that, and especially the way it sounds when she says his _name_. He is putty in her hands and it's why he's pushed into her bedroom and onto the bed. Annie rocks her hips as she kisses his throat while her nimble fingers unzip his pants. He's lifting up, pulling his shirt off and she's giggling into a kiss as he gropes her backside, kneading it with the pads of his fingers. Her hips rock faster and he's already hard beneath her. She stops, leaning back and pulls her shirt over her head, throwing it behind her. He drinks in the sight of her and his mouth is immediately kissing the swell of her breast as he works on undoing her bra. His hands are shaking though and she cups his face, kissing him sweetly before she does it for him.

He's above her soon enough and she's moaning quietly as he rubs circles onto her with his thumb. The way her legs spread for him so willingly makes him _burn_ and he places wet kisses down her body until she's moaning louder and rocking her hips to the pace he sets with his mouth. He doesn't know how many times she says his name, but he knows that she never stops and he doesn't want her to. Every single time she does it goes straight to his groin and he's licking and sucking at her until she's screaming it and shuddering breathlessly against him.

He's filled with pride and affection as he looks up at her. And when he's kissing her slowly, she moves her hand between him and strokes firmly, showing him that she still wants him like this. Knowing that only makes him kiss her feverishly, and her legs spread wider as he gently pushes her hand away. He makes sure to look at her as it happens, as they finally join together like he's dreamt about and longed for. The heat of her around him is so perfect, and they fit together in every single way that it's impossible for him to deny that this isn't fate.

The way she says his name this time when he's buried deeply inside of her is different, and he's so in awe of her. And then they begin to move and he can't think of anything other than how much he loves her and how long he's waited for her, to experience this, to feel this strongly for someone else. Knowing that she loves him back just the same is what makes everything they've ever gone through worth it. It brought them here, to this exact moment, and he finally realizes that he doesn't regret a thing.

They soon reach completion and Annie lies contentedly in his arms, her breath warming his neck as she dreams. He traces her side, the curve of her hip, and back up until his hand is over her heart, the beat of it thrumming against his palm. He doesn't move his hand again, resting it there as he watches her, feeling every emotion for her magnified. He belongs to her. He knows that, accepts it. She could break his heart if she wanted to. She could tear it out and stomp on it, but he's willing to take that chance.

.

He can never seem to get enough of her. He wants her all the time, repeatedly, until it's painful to even move because they're that worn out. She's an obsession, an addiction, and he loves her so much that it makes him feel a bit crazy, but George tells him that it's just their honeymoon phase and it will pass. That doesn't stop Mitchell and Annie from spending entire days in bed, completely consumed with one another.

They're everywhere in this house now. Every corner, every room has now been claimed by them and it's as it should be. This house is meant to be full of happiness and love and that's exactly the case now.

George is right though. After months of madness, things calm down between them and they have a comfortable intimacy. Cuddling on the couch in front of the television is something they never stop, though. Mitchell is a man, but he's not afraid to admit that he loves being close to Annie like that.

He never thought they'd be here. He never thought he deserved this, but he does now. He deserves to be happy, and Annie deserves to be even happier. He's proud that he can make her smile and laugh and feel loved. She's the best and most important part of his life. And that's why he wants to spend the rest of it with her.

It's close to a year later when he asks Nina to go out shopping with him. The moment she sees him she knows what's up and she shakes her head in disbelief. "I never thought I'd see this day, John Mitchell," she says as she loops her arm through his.

"I've matured," he says.

She snorts, but nods her head in agreement. "Just a bit,"

.

He has plans, grand ones, but the small box stays in his coat pocket for over a week until he realizes that he can't wait any longer. So when they're having lunch at the café where he first saw her again, Mitchell gets down on bended knee and makes sure to keep eye contact.

Annie stares wide-eyed at him, her mouth dropping open as she gasps and brings her hands to her face. "Mitchell…"

"Annie," he says, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. It surprisingly helps for once. "I want to spend the rest of my life loving you." He swallows and becomes more emotional than he'd like as he holds the box out and opens it. "Marry me, Annie."

She sobs once, and it's very loud and if people weren't looking at them before they are now. But it doesn't matter; all he sees is his Annie. "Oh, Mitchell, yes! Yes, yes, yes!"

As he slips the ring on her finger and pulls her into a kiss, his heart races and he feels wetness on his cheeks, though as the kiss ends, he makes sure to wipe it away. Annie's forehead presses to his and she laughs as she strokes his face.

.

The sight of Annie in white, walking down the aisle towards him is something he will never be able to forget. It's like a dream, but when they kiss he knows it's reality. He couldn't dream something like this up even if he tried hard enough.

Nina catches the bouquet at the reception and George is a blubbering mess as he proposes to her right then and there. She accepts, _of course_ she accepts, and after everyone has danced and danced and laughed and drank far too much, they reception ends and Mitchell carries Annie over the threshold as she giggles and buries her face into the crook of his neck.

He collapses onto the bed and she laughs a bit louder, but stops when she looks at him. "My husband," she whispers, tracing his jawline with her fingertip.

He leans in close and nuzzles their noses together. "My wife," he whispers back and kisses her slowly, knowing that they have plenty of time ahead of them.

.

Annie is propped up by pillows in the hospital bed, her hair in complete disarray as she yawns, understandably exhausted. Despite that, Mitchell believes she has never looked more gorgeous. He grins as he sits down beside her and carefully holds the small bundle wrapped in pink in his arms.

"She has your hair," Annie says and smiles tiredly at him.

He laughs, "Or yours."

"Ours?" she compromises.

Nodding, he kisses her briefly until his attention is brought back to their daughter, who is wiggling around in his arms and wanting all their focus to be upon her. Mitchell chuckles and runs the tip of his index finger across her forehead, brushing away a few dark curls. "She's perfect," he says, awed by this person who is truly a part of him and a part of Annie.

"I think so," Annie agrees and taps his shoulder. He turns and she holds her arms out expectantly. He obliges, carefully placing the baby in her arms.

"George and Nina are still in the waiting area," he says. "They're going completely mad."

Although Annie's eyes are on their daughter, she laughs and shakes her head. "They'll have to wait a bit longer, I'm afraid. I need a bit more time alone with my husband and our daughter."

She looks up then and smiles brightly, then scoots over a bit to allow him more room beside her. His arm wraps around her shoulders and he kisses her temple, feeling completely content and happy and in love in this one moment than he ever has before. He never thought this was possible, but somehow, some way, it was given to him, and he's thankful for that.

Being human is everything he wished for and so much more.


End file.
